


We All Fall Down

by lovetheblazer



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Bar Room Brawl, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, crisscolfer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 14:59:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5379416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovetheblazer/pseuds/lovetheblazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Advent Prompt #7: You caught some guy aggressively hitting on me and making me uncomfortable so you punched him and now we’re at my place where I’m cleaning the blood off your face and endlessly thanking you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We All Fall Down

**Author's Note:**

> Day 7 of the Advent Challenge I'm doing daily through Christmas Eve. Prompts have been anonymously submitted by my followers.

Darren hates drinking alone.

He's not sure if it's the cliché of it all that bothers him most or maybe it's just the narcissistic part of his personality that needs an audience for his drunken shenanigans. Whatever the reason, he's a true extrovert at heart, so drinking on his own at midnight on a Tuesday is making him maudlin. Then again, maybe the whiskey has a little something to do with that.

He's debating between closing his tab or ordering one more drink for warmth before he braves the blustery cold outside when his gaze lands on the same guy he's had his eye on all night.

Darren is enough of a regular to recognize that the guy in question is new and surprisingly overdressed compared to the typical weekday crowd at the shambling neighborhood pub that straddles the line between crumbling and ripe for gentrification. He's wearing an expensive looking suit, though he's since removed the jacket, loosened his tie, and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He arrived not long after Darren, taking advantage of the happy hour drink specials with several female friends. Cute guy has been steadily drinking ever since, though much like Darren, it would appear he's long since been abandoned by his friends. Based on his flushed cheeks and loose limbed posture, Darren would say that the cute guy has probably had more to drink than him and that's saying something.

What catches his attention about the guy now isn't his appearance, but the expression on his face, equal parts annoyed and uncomfortable. Darren locks eyes with him and swears he detects a momentary flicker of fear. That's signal enough for Darren to toss a few crumpled bills on the bar to cover his tab and wander over to see what's wrong.

It’s only then that he notices the creep for the first time. Technically, the creep is named Joe, a regular of the establishment, who at age forty-five seems to have no real job or commitments aside from chronic alcoholism. When he's sober, he's tolerable enough. But when he's drunk (and he's almost  _always_  drunk), Joe's a mouthy blowhard that hits on anything that moves. Worse still, he can't seem to take the hint when his advances aren't wanted. Darren's been on the receiving end of his persistence once before, and he's been wanting to tell the asshole off ever since.

“Look, I said I'm not interested,” the cute guy huffs defensively, taking a step back from Joe and his groping hands. “I just want to pay my bill in peace and then leave.”

“Ah, c'mon don't be like that,” Joe leers. “I bet I can change your mind, just let me buy you another round.”

The cute guy shakes his head, his glare icy. “Never going to happen.”

“Wow, what a cocktease,” Joe slurs to one of the bystanders looking on in mute horror. Darren takes a deep steadying breath, ready to give Joe a piece of his mind. But before he can even begin his rant, Joe grabs for the cute guy and Darren sees red.

He claps a hand on Joe's shoulder, spinning him around so they're face to face. “He said no, Joe!” Darren yells. Darren’s fist connects with Joe's jaw with a satisfying crack and he goes down hard on the ground. “Don't fucking touch him.”

The cute guy gasps, looking from Darren to Joe in a crumpled heap on the floor with his mouth agape. “He was trying to grab your ass or something,” Darren starts to explain.

“Thank you,” the cute guy interrupts. “Seriously, thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Darren says. It's the truth. “What's your name?”

“I'm Chris,” he replies. “And you're...?”

“Darren.” He offers his hand to shake, wincing as he realizes that his knuckles are already starting to swell from the punch he just threw.

Chris opens his mouth to say more, but then he looks over Darren's shoulder at something and his eyes widen in fear. “Oh shit.”

Before Darren can ask what's wrong, he's being punched in the nose.

Fucking Joe.

* * *

“We're here,” Chris announces twenty minutes later, pulling out his billfold to pay for the cab.

“Here, let me...” Darren offers, trying to reach for his wallet without losing his grip on the half dozen napkins he's got pressed to his bleeding nose.

“No honey, it's on me,” Chris insists, passing a twenty to their driver. “It's the least I can do.”

“You don't owe me anything,” Darren protests, his voice muffled and slurred thanks to his swollen nose and cheek. “I've been wanting to punch that bastard in the face for a long time. You just gave me a good excuse.”

“Come on, let's get you inside so I can fix you up,” Chris encourages. He slides out of the cab first, then offers his hand to Darren to help him up. Chris studies Darren's face underneath the light from the streetlamp for a moment. “Oh man, you're a mess.”

“But like, a manly mess, right? The kind that rushes in to defend your honor?” Darren jokes. He tries to smile at Chris but it quickly morphs into a grimace.

“Ah yes, so macho, getting your nose broken by a drunk middle-aged dude,” Chris teases. “And anyways, I'm not sure my honor really needed defending. I do agree with you about one thing, though,”

“What's that?”

“That Joe guy? He totally had a face that just needed a good punching,” Chris says with utter conviction.

“You're damn right it did.”

Darren follows Chris inside his apartment. As soon as Chris flicks on the overhead lights, he's being greeted by a very eager dog and a significantly less enthusiastic cat. “This is Cooper,” Chris introduces as he stoops to pet his golden fur. “He loves everyone. And this,” he continues, gesturing to the overweight cat circling his ankles, “is Brian. He hates everyone.”

“He seems to like you okay,” Darren comments.

“He hates everyone but me. I'm pretty sure he only tolerates me because I'm the person who gives him food. I tried to put him on a diet once and he wouldn't even  _look_  at me for a week,” Chris explains.

Darren laughs but almost immediately regrets it when it makes pain explode across his nose and cheekbone. “Ow,” he breathes, eyes watering.

Chris winces sympathetically. “Let me go grab my first aid kit so we can get you fixed up. Just make yourself comfortable,” he invites, pointing to his sofa.

“I wouldn't want to get blood all over your furniture,” Darren mumbles.

“Eh, it's pleather. It'll wipe off. Go sit,” he commands.

Darren flops down. While he waits, he scans Chris's shelves filled with DVDs and Blu-Rays, marveling at how much it overlaps with his own collection.

“Alright, hopefully I've got everything I need now,” Chris announces a short while later, toting a small white first aid kit and two gel icepacks. He sits down on the couch next to Darren and sets the kit on the coffee table.

Chris brings his hand to Darren's, gently prying it away from his nose. “Let me see how bad it is,” he prompts.

Darren removes the napkins from his nose and Chris whistles low under his breath. “That bad?” Darren asks.

“Well, the good news is that it's mostly stopped bleeding,” Chris begins. “But I think your nose might have doubled in size, at least temporarily.”

“Am I hideous? Do you need to chuck me into the nearest bell tower like Quasimodo?” Darren gasps in mock horror. Underneath, there's some real insecurity, since everything Darren knows about Chris so far only makes him want to know more. He seriously doubts that disfiguring injuries will help him secure Chris's number or a date.

“It's too soon to tell for sure, but I think underneath all that blood there might be a reasonably attractive guy,” Chris finally admits.

“Reasonably attractive? Wow, don't you know just how to flatter a guy, Chris,” Darren jokes.

Chris shrugs, grinning. “Wouldn't want you to get a big head, that's all...”

“Why not? It'd go perfectly with my big nose.”

“Touché,” Chris laughs. “Alright, ready for the not so fun part?”

“Ready as I'll ever be,” Darren agrees hesitantly.

Chris nods and then takes Darren's face in one hand, tilting it up towards the light. With the other, he picks up an antiseptic wipe and begins carefully wiping the dried blood from underneath Darren's nose and cheek.

It hurts more than Darren wants to let on. It's mostly just that any pressure directly to his nose makes his entire face ache and his eyes water in a way that is definitely  _not_  Darren crying but probably looks remarkably similar. Darren focuses on trying to keep his breathing relatively even, distracting himself by gazing into Chris's crystal blue eyes. When he feels like the staring is potentially starting to get creepy, he switches to taking in other things about Chris, like the determined set of his jaw or how long and elegant his fingers look as he works at cleaning Darren up.

“That's better,” Chris says at last, nodding at his own handiwork.

“So, what's the verdict, Doc? Is my nose broken?” Darren inquires.

“I... honestly have no idea. My first aid knowledge is pretty much limited to how to apply pressure, bandaids, or ice. It's definitely swollen, but it doesn't look obviously crooked to me?” Chris throws up his hands helplessly. “If it's still hurting a lot tomorrow, you might need to see an actual medical professional.”

“Makes sense. If it's broken, I'm totally sending Joe a bill for my doctor's visit,” Darren grumbles.

“You should,” Chris sighs. “He'd deserve it.” He picks up a small butterfly bandage. “Okay, let me fix your cheek and then you should probably ice your face.” He glances down and catches sight of Darren's bruised knuckles. “Geez, your hand too, from the looks of it.”

“You should see the other guy,” Darren banters back.

“I did. Saw him get tossed out of the bar onto the sidewalk face first. It was the highlight of my evening,” Chris remarks coolly.

“And here I thought that the highlight of your night was meeting me,” Darren pouts.

Chris takes his face in his hands again and methodically applies a bandage to hold the split skin on Darren's cheekbone closed. “The night is young,” Chris murmurs. “You've still got time to improve your standing with me.”

He smoothes his finger over the bandage several times, making sure it's secure. “Okay, I think my work here is done,” he announces.

“Not quite,” Darren protests.

“Oh?” Chris quirks up one eyebrow. “What else did you have in mind?”

“I'm going to need you to kiss it better. Thoroughly,” Darren whispers.

Chris grins, fingers trailing down to cup the line of Darren's jaw. “We didn't learn about this...  _technique_  in first aid,” he adds as he leans in.

“Don't worry, I'll show you how it's done.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Share fic on Tumblr](http://lovetheblazer.tumblr.com/post/134772262800/we-all-fall-down)
> 
> Read Previous Advent Fics on: [AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Advent_Fics_by_lovetheblazer) or [Tumblr](http://lovetheblazer.tumblr.com/tagged/advent-fics-by-lovetheblazer)


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